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2013.02.27 - Won't You Be My Neighbor?
New York City is one of the coldest places in the world in the winter, and not just because of the temperatures. Being bundled up and perpetually in a hurry to get somewhere warm seems to give even more license to the natives to keep to themselves. Fern's smile might tip anyone off that she's not from around here, as would the spring in her step as she approaches the dilapidated apartment building where she lives on her walk from the subway station. She pauses at the door, pulling it open wide, and then stepping back out of the way of an old woman with a yappy little dog on a leash. "Afternoon, Mrs. Grovser! It's nice to see you and Flipper getting out and about," she chirps as the woman exits the building. The words get no acknowledgement except for some Flipper yapping, but Fern doesn't look to mind it. She's grown used to her neighbors being somewhat reticent to engage in conversation. Or eye contact. The young waitress stands a moment, holding the door open, as she watches the old woman shuffle down the street, her smile turned to a wry half grin. "One of these days, you'll say hi," she mutters softly. Coming up the sidewalk from behind Fern, his hands stuffed in his pockets, Gabriel is close enough to hear the last comment the young woman makes to herself. With a small smirk and with the full intention of startling her he chooses to answer the comment before announcing himself, "I wouldn't count on it. This is New York City after all. Famous for tall buildings and rude people." The young man's intent is met with a squeak of surprise, as Fern twists suddenly, reflexively letting the door go. It swings shut to slam securely, further punctuating the success of Gabriel's gambit. She puts one hand over her heart, as if to still it's fluttering, countering with a lifted brow, "You mean like people who scare the crap outta ya?" The words still manage to hold more humor than anything else, even though there's a vaguely wary cast to her eyes. She takes a step back, bumping against the door, and gives the stranger a quick once over. A rough judgment has him at somewhere near her age, unless she's lost her knack for guessing. She herself looks youngish, and a bit lost in the jacket she wears. It's an old, navy blue bomber jacket, a bit tattered and about two miles too big for her slight frame. It hangs loosely around her to about mid-thigh, and then there's the legs of faded jeans, and black, polished steel toe boots on her feet. Gabriel's smirk turns into an honest smile as he takes a few steps away from the young woman on his stoop and ends up leaning his back on a nearby telephone pole. His clothing jeans and boots show a serious amount of wear but the brown leather bomber jacket he's wearing seems brand-new. "Nope. That's just a friendly sort'a greeting around here. You're blocking my front door, by the way. It'll make it hard for me to get home." Fern visibly eases a measure as the step back conveys that there probably won't be any imminent harm from Gabriel, and now both brows lift at his words and her smile blooms. "Hey! I live here too!" Her head tilts and she looks at him curiously, "Are you new? I haven't seen you around." And he is someone that just about any female with a pulse would remember seeing around. Belatedly she sticks her hand out, sporting a bright pink glove. "I'm Fern. 4-D." Gabriel shrugs, "I've been here for a few weeks now. I'm just... forgettable." Taking his right hand out of the pocket of his jacket he shakes his pink covered hand with his own black leather covered one. "Nice to meet you. Gabriel Thomas. I'm in 5-B." The skeptical look Fern gives the comment about being forgettable is clear, but she just laughs softly. Even through two different gloves, Fern's grip isn't all mushy and weak, and it's clearly not overly strong, but lies somewhere comfortably on the middle ground. "It's nice to meet you too, Gabriel. Do you play the trumpet?" She's got angels on her mind, having met one just a few days ago. Gabriel tilts his head to the side in a surprisingly similar gesture to the one she used just a few moments ago. After considering the question for a second or two he makes the connection and lets out a sharp, amused laugh, "I don't play the trumpet but I dabble with the guitar. Not as divine but a lot easier to learn." At the same time he stuffs his hand back into his jacket's pocket he bends a leg to rest the sole of his foot on the telephone pole he's leaning against, obviously planning on talking a while. "So, are you trying to reform the nice citizens of New York City at large or only the ones living in our building?" Fern grins at the response, breathing an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Good. I've never heard anything about a Gabriel with a guitar signaling the end of the world, so we're probably safe then." As he gets a bit more comfortable with his stance, Fern steps away from the door so that any other residents can actually use it if they need. She scuffs a rock off into the gutter and looks amused at the question. "I thought I'd start with our building. Work my way out from here. It'll probably take some persistence, but I've got that in spades." Gabriel tips an imaginary hat at Fern and smiles,"That's a good thing because you'll definitely need it in spades. I've been in New York three years now and I've found New Yorkers to be a surly, rude bunch. With a few exceptions here and there. I bet you're not from here." As he speaks his hand comes back out of the pocket holding what could be anything from a silver dollar to a large chromed washer. Its hard to tell because the little disk of metal is flashing from finger to finger along the back of his hand fast enough to not give an observer time to take a good look at it. And to judge by his expression this is a habit, since he hasn't taken his attention away from the conversation and seems to be doing it without having to focus on it. As she shakes her head in response, a strand of red falls into her eyes, and Fern pushes it back absently with one pink glove. "You'd win that bet. I'm from Ohio," she volunteers, waiting for the jokes that always seem to come, heading off the most popular one with good humor. "No, the river in Cleveland doesn't catch fire any more. Hardly ever." She laughs, adding, "I'm from more near Columbus, though. Small town in the middle of the state." Her eyes drop, catching the silver glint and watching as she asks, "Where are you from originally?" A quick look of confusion comes over Gabriel's face and causes a pause in the movement of the coin. And yes, its an old silver dollar. "River catching on fire? Was the some sort of oil spill on it or something?" But he puts this aside and takes advantage of the pause to switch the coin from one hand to the other, starting the same exercise again with his left hand now. "And I'm from a really small town in Florida you've probably never heard of. Decided I needed to broaden my horizons. How long have you been in the City?" Now Fern's laugh comes fully, clear and bright in the gloomy New York afternoon, "Well, it was way before our time." She's still guessing his age to be around her own. "It was so polluted in the late 60's that it caught fire. It was pretty hard for them to live down. I mean, in addition to it just being Cleveland." Once called The Mistake On The Lake before, for some stupid reason, they tried to get people to call it The Plum after the fashion of The Big Apple. That ad agency should have been shut down, burned and the ground salted. Her eyes, which had lifted back to his face, fall again as the coin is switched to the other hand. "Hm... about six months or so." She changes subject suddenly, which she does sometimes when a thought pops into her head. "That's pretty cool. Can you teach me how to do it?" she asks with a nod at the flipping coin. Once again a slight look of confusion comes over Gabriel's features, this time shorter than before as he looks down at his left hand. "Oh, this? Its just an exercise to keep the fingers nimble. Its not hard at all, the speed is the only hardish part. Here..." He steps closer while offering the silver dollar. "I can teach you the basic movement right now. After that all you have to do is find something big enough to practice with." Using her left hand, Fern pulls the glove off her right, stuffing it hastily into her pocket. There's an open eagerness on her face, another thing that gives away to most that she's not a native of the city. She takes the coin, turning it in her hand to give it a curious once over, then her attention is back on Gabriel. "It looks kinda hard..." She lets the though trail off, but clearly doesn't seem daunted by that prospect. Gabriel steps closer and holds out his hand, traveling the silver dollar over his knuckle and back once in slow motion, explaining the process as he goes, "OK, so this is the starting point. Now you just push up with the first finger along the side of the coin and let it flip over the second finger. Hold the second and third just separate enough so that you can catch the coin with them as it falls over, reaching up with the third a little bit to control the catch. Then repeat the moment so the coin goes over the third finger and ends up between it and the pinky. To go back just reverse the process." Once he's demonstrated he reaches out with still gloved hands to put the coin between Fern's first two fingers while using his free hand to hold all her finger gently together so the coin doesn't fall through, "this is where you start. Give it a shot. And you /will/ drop it at first. A lot." With a grin he steps back again to watch. Fern watches and listens intently, the concentration on her face over something so simple almost comical. She even holds her hand up, mimicking the movement as Gabriel does it. There's a brief nod as he places the coin on her hand, but as he steps back she protests immediately, "No no, you have to be ready to catch it. I don't want to drop it and have it roll into a sewer or something." She'll wait until she's satisfied he'll be ready, then she attempts the task. Very slowly. She lets the coin fall over her finger, waiting to catch it between the second and third... and it slips neatly through. "Shoot!" Gabriel catches the coin with a quick, easy movement and put it between his fingers, "You need to raise the coming finger a little bit to control the fall, if you just let it flip over all on its own you end up having to spread your fingers too much, making it harder to catch. Here, watch one more time." After doing it in slow motion one more time he returns to the coin to the young woman giving her another chance to try. Fern absently scratches her head as she watches Gabriel maneuver the coin again, frowning lightly, lips pressed tightly together. "Ok," she says with a nod as he gives her the coin back. "This time I'll do it." She certainly sounds determined. The silver dollar is once more poised on her fingers, and she starts it through another roll. From the intensity of her stare one might think that she was trying to make it work through sheer willpower. It's a better result this time, she doesn't drop it until it falls between her ring finger and pinky. Gabriel grins and nods as he catches the falling coin with another twitch of movement, barely giving it time to fall, "See, you've got the idea now. He give it another try. And focus on the movements not on trying to gain speed. Speed comes later." He offers the coin up again, giving her another chance. Fern looks up at Gabriel, her frown immediately turning into a grin. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you sound like my dance coach." How could that possibly be taken any way that's wrong? "She's always telling me to slow down and learn the steps first, but I just want it to all come together and be right." On the third try she's back a step, dropping it before it can be caught between middle and ring fingers. This gets a stamp of her foot, "Darnit!" Still, she looks like she's enjoying it, but her brows lift as something comes to her. "Oh hey!" she exclaims, digging into her coat pocket and pulling out a silver disc. It's about the size of a half dollar, almost double the thickness of a coin, and is a dull silver instead of polished and shiny. "I bet I can use this to practice." She immediately gives it a shot. Gabriel chuckles at her reaction to the set back but continues to silently watch until for a bit before saying, "Well, she sounds like a smart woman. It came late to me but I had to learn the hard way that some things just take practice and trying to rush them just means more frustration instead better results." Late in life... Like he's such an old man. When the silver disc comes out of the pocket he peers at it, trying to figure out exactly what it is. "Are you a dancer or is it just a hobby?" There's a soft sigh from the girl, "I know. It's just so hard to wait sometimes." Holding her own hand under the hand with the disc (finally!), Fern's attention remains mostly on what she's trying to do. "I'm an actress. I might have a part in Shakespeare In The Park this year." The words are proud and hopeful, and she briefly crosses her fingers and knocks on the telephone pole for luck. "Sometimes that means I gotta dance. I'm much better at singing." She doesn't seem to be making much improvement at the coin trick, but she doesn't look ready to give up trying any time soon. The disc has no markings on it, but as she slowly maneuvers it it can be seen that one side has a tiny mesh spot, as if it's a speaker or microphone. Gabriel takes his silver dollar back and, this time intentionally, starts working on coin vanishes. Holding the coin in one hand and making it 'disappear' then switching to the other hand and doing the same thing while keeping the conversation going. "Well I wish you... Wait! The proper term is break a leg, isn't it? When you want to wish an actor luck? Or is that just for when they're about to go on stage?" After a few moments he can't take it anymore and instead of trying to use his eyes to figure out what her disk is he breaks down and asks,"And what is that that you're using?" "I'm not really superstitious," Fern says with a laugh, and then immediately her face sobers and she adds, very seriously, "But let's just say them both in case." It holds a second before she's laughing again. "Thanks. I really hope I get this, it could be a really big break." After about the seventh time of dropping the disc into her waiting hand, Fern stops, holding it. "This? It's like a GPS. A friend gave it to me." The city is a dangerous place, after all. "It's kinda reassuring. Like my own 911." Maybe not so much something she should be playing with, but it's a good size. Gabriel grins as she talks, finally putting his silver dollar back in his pocket. "Well, good luck and break a leg. But if you're not superstitious what was the knocking on wood all about then?" Its an easy, comfortable tease. The kind of teasing question that comes out of someone that uses it as typical, habitual interaction. "Do you fall into the traditional stereotype of the wannabe actress that works as a waitress while she gets her big break?" But this line of questioning falls by the wayside as she explains about the disk. "That sounds expensive. Are you sure it won't break if it falls one too many times?" The tease gets a like response from Fern, "Oh hush." It gets more comically indignant as the next question. "Shut up," she laughs, reaching over to hit his arm lightly. "I work at a restaurant in Brooklyn." Yeah, she knows she's a stereotype, and sometimes it's amusing, sometimes frustrating. She certainly seems amused right now. Until Gabriel points out a stunning bit of logic she'd managed to overlook. Her head drops and she looks at the disc, then her eyes raise to him, head still down, sheepish as she tucks the disc into her pocket. "Riiiiight. That never happened. If One finds out he's likely to give me a stern talking to." She giggles as the disc is returned to the relative safety of her pocket. Gabriel clearly takes pleasure from the reactions but then frowns slights at the end of her comments,"One? That's a strange name. I take it its a nickname, not his real name?" As he's talking a friendly little stray cat comes up and starts to rub up against his legs, making him take a quick step away, glaring down at the animal, "Go away cat!" "His nickname's Doc," comes with a broad grin. "My name isn't very common either, so I'm not one to talk." Fern looks down to the cat at once, dropping to a squat and cooing, "Hello little kitty, what's your name?" She doesn't attempt to reach out and her head tilts back before the cat can answer, so she can peer up at Gabriel. "Don't like cats?" Friendly or not, that kind of reaction usually make a cat skiddadle. So Fern's attempt to attract the kitty's attention draws nothing but a quick glance over the shoulder as the animal moves away from the humans at a quick clip. Gabriel watches is go, frowning a tiny bit, and says, "I like cats fine. I'm just a little... bothered by being touched when I'm not expecting it. Its not normal but from time to time I can react badly to it." Fern's frown mirrors Gabriel's as she looks to watch the cat scoot off, and she stands, quickly brushing at her coat for no real reason. "Nah, I can understand that. Some people like their own space. I'm not like that with animals, but I really hate when people don't know when to back off." She pauses a moment, as if considering, before she speaks. "Hey, I've got a couple pieces of pizza from work. Want one?" If he's living in the same building she is he probably isn't rolling in dough, either. Gabriel doesn't really think too long on that one before saying,"If you're sure you want to give them away I'll be more than happy to eat them for you. And it is getting a little bit cold out here. I hope I didn't keep you too long, it seemed like you were going somewhere." As he talks he walks up to the door of the building and opens the front door, holding it in case she was planning on giving him that pizza now. Category:Log